Maybe it’s just too good

By Robin Dearing

I remember it was dark green — ominously dark green, like a witch's potion — and my mother told me that I'd get into big trouble if I didn't take the spoonful of evil greenness or if I let one drop hit the covers of my bed.
I don't remember what the medicine was for, but I distinctly remember that it tasted terrible and I wanted no part of it.
But that was more than 30 years ago (Good grief! I have memories from more than 30 years ago ... I'm old), things are different now.
These days when you go to the pharmacy to get your kid's prescription filled, you can pay a buck extra to get it flavored cherry or bubble gum or blueberry — the battle of the spoon is no longer waged.
Also, the inventors of mediciney things figured out a way to get an entire dose of cough medicine into a paper-thin strip that dissolves on the tongue. Oh, and they come in cherry and grape flavors, too.
But one thing hasn't changed and that's the deliciously goodness of children's pain reliever.
I remember the sweet taste of those tiny, orange, chalky Bayer aspirin and really liking them. It might be the reason that my favor flavor of candy (after chocolate, of course) is orange.
They still make children's pain reliever flavored orange, but also an assortment of pseudo fruity flavors.
And you know what? My kid loves 'em all.
I don't mean that she'll take the children's Motrin willingly. I mean that she loves, loves, LOVES herself some Motrin.
Sunday, Margaret had a fever skyrocket on us so quick we were sure it was indicative of something very serious. We gave her two grape-flavored Motrin that eventually brought her fever down, but not before having a doctor check her out.
Monday, Margaret and I stayed home. Around 2, her fever began to creep up again. I gave her more Motrin and yet another dose around 8.
By 8:30 she was begging for more. She claimed she couldn't go to sleep until she'd had more Motrin. She was whimpering and sobbing over the fact that we were selfishly withholding her pills from her.
"I need my pills," she cried while her dad and I stifled our laughter. It was so bizarre to have a skinny, string bean of a kid begging for more ibuprofen like it was sugar or something really worth begging for.
We gathered ourselves long enough to explain the dangers of taking too much medicine and sent her back to bed.
Maybe, the pharmacy companies are making children's medicine taste just a little bit too good.